


Hiraeth

by StormDragon



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 12:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormDragon/pseuds/StormDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mostly an answer to this <a href="http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/8832.html?thread=34209408#t34209408">prompt</a>.</p><p>Fenris not so accidentally makes Anders a child and is forced to take responsibility for him. Until he is cured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have split this into two parts, one that has been beta'd by wadebramwilson and the other which wasn't. Feel free to point out errors.

Fenris may have been loyal to Hawke, but he owed the mages nothing. He had made certain they were both aware that if not for Hawke, he would cut them down or reported them to the Templars. He might even lend them a hand, and spike the mages’ food and drink with magebane, the look on their faces once they find themselves unable to cast would be delicious. Or he could save everyone’s time and just remove the mages’ hearts put them in a platter, then have it delivered to Knight Commander’s office, perhaps he might wrapped it all up with a bow as gift. He smiled briefly at thought before banishing them away. 

His obvious disdain did nothing to deter either of them however. They continued to test his patience on a daily basis; if it was not the blood mage and her talk of the alienage and his elven heritage, it was the abomination and his talk of the _mage’s plight_. 

In all honesty, Fenris didn’t know which of them was more bearable to be around. The blood mage would at least stay silent once he told her off, but in a fight her magic irritated his markings, mostly due to his memories rather than the sensation itself. Or the abomination whose magic was at least more tolerable, but could not shut his mouth even when threatened. 

Eventually his patience would wear thin and he would act out on his fantasies of shutting them up. Even Hawke had to know that. 

They were just lucky that when he did act out, it was more juvenile than permanent. 

He shoved the mage during a particularly heated argument over the topic of –unsurprisingly – mages, they were all the abomination seemed to talk about. 

The mage had fallen, knocking against emporium’s alchemic table, causing more than a few potion and reagents to haphazardly fall to the ground in the process, which in turn caused one of Xenon’s ceramic vases to topple off the table. It fell rather comically on the mage’s head, spilling water all over the mage, drenching his robes. The mage had removed the offending vase from his head; he glared at Fenris as he picked himself off the ground and for a moment it seemed like the mage was about to speak, whatever he was going to say, however, was lost in a fit of dry coughs. 

“Anders!” Hawke was at the mage’s side within minutes, “What was in that vase?” Hawke was rightly cautious, for nothing was ordinary in Xenon’s Black Emporium. 

“Ah! That is my bathing water.” 

Fenris couldn’t hide his amusement as Anders paled, no doubt having swallowed some of the foul water. Not even Hawke’s disapproving looks and chiding tone was enough to dampen his mood. 

Xenon claimed that the water came from a unique source and demanded compensation for its loss. He could not bring himself to regret his actions, even as Hawke handed over a significant sum of gold to appease the antiquarian. 

It wasn’t until later when the sunset did they headed off to assist Aveline in clearing Lowtown of its gangs, that he came close to regretting what he had done. Anders lagged behind them, slowing down their progress and becoming a burden during their fights with the gangs. Aveline and Hawke frequently had to defend Anders more than once when the mage decided against common sense to stand around and do nothing. 

Eventually, Hawke gave up pursuing the gangs when the mage became more useless than useful in the fights. They retreated to Varric’s suite in the Hanged Man as per usual. Not an hour later Anders passed out with his face pressed into the hard grained wood of the table, Hawke demanded that Fenris take responsibility for the mage’s health, blaming for the mage’s tired state. 

Hawke _supervised_ as he carried the mage into a room that she had rented ahead of time. It wasn’t grand, but there was more than enough space for two beds, mercifully at least partially walled off from each other. He deposited the mage on one of the beds and headed off to his own for the night. He was unclasping his armor when Hawke came to him, promising to return at noon. She made certain he was aware, that until she returned anything that happens to the mage would be on him before taking her leave. 

Come morning, he was the first to wake, a habit from the time he served Danarius. He had no intention to wait for the mage to wake on his own, and put on his armor before heading to Anders’ side to wake him. 

Fenris was unsurprised to find that Hawke had removed Anders of his boots and coat; she had left Anders’ boots by the chair she had draped his coat on. She had a fondness for the mage the he would never understand, nor did he wish too. 

He resigned himself to staying with the mage until Hawke returned. But he would not want to put up with Anders on an empty stomach. So Fenris left the sleeping mage for a meal, he ate quickly and left to check if Varric or Isabela were up, hoping for company that wasn’t Anders. Perhaps even get one of them to watch Anders until Hawke came. Seeing both of their doors locked, Fenris wagered they were both still asleep. With that he returned to the room he and the mage shared. 

For a brief moment he thought he saw their door ajar, a small figure peeking out through the crack. He blinked and the door was shut, he stood there in the hallway, confused. He checked to see if it was the right room, knowing full well that it was; once reaffirmed, he entered. 

It may have been a child or a dwarf. In Lowtown however, neither was a herald of good news. The children themselves were mostly harmless, but they were sometimes used as lookout for thieves in exchange for a few pieces of coin. Then again, Fenris has had the pleasure of encountering skilled pickpockets barely in their teens roaming the streets, so perhaps they weren’t all so harmless. 

He quietly crept into the room in case there was more than one thief, perhaps it should have crossed his mind that the mage might be in danger. If the mage were to get himself hurt, Hawke would hold Fenris responsible. He cursed under his breath and threw caution to the wind as he reached for his blade and strode toward the mage’s bed. 

…only to find nothing. The mage was gone, but his staff, coat, and boots were still there. There were no signs of struggle nor blood. Fenris had left nothing of his own in the room when he had gone down stairs, so nothing of his could have been stolen; and he didn’t particularly care if anything of the mage’s was stolen. 

It seemed more likely that the mage had just left, but he would not leave without his things, especially the boots. Humans and their soft feet, complaining about the smallest things like sand in their shoes. If they didn’t want things getting trapped in their shoes, then they would be better off without them. Fenris huffed and sat down on the chair that Hawke had draped Anders’ coat over. If the mage was playing a trick on him… Fenris would make him sorely rue that particular decision. 

Half an hour and there was still no Anders, he paced around the length of the room thinking of leaving to check on Varric or Isabela again, to see if either were awake and perhaps help him with his mage problem. He had been saved the trouble of having to decide for himself, when Varric came in to check on him and Anders. Varric claimed he was only there to inquired if either of them wanted anything to eat, Fenris suspected it Hawke’s had gotten the dwarf to come check on the in the morning. 

Fenris declined and admitted to having no idea where Anders was. Varric nodded and promised to have a few of his men look for Anders. A few minutes after the dwarf left, he heard a sound coming from Anders’ side of the room. It sounded like someone’s stomach growling, the source was close… Fenris stood up and listened, following the growling to Anders’ bed. He frowned and immediately ducked down to catch whoever it was by surprise. 

With a startled shout, whoever was under the bed scrambled out the other side. It couldn’t have been the mage; no adult could fit in under the bed. 

Fenris stood up and surveyed the room, there in the corner, trying to hide in the gap between the wall and the nightstand. Fenris stepped onto the bed and then over, finally cornered the intruder, and now he was able to see just who or what it was. It turned out to be a child, a small human child wearing a linen shirt that was far too big for him. 

Fenris frowned at this. Not only was the mage missing, with Hawke undoubtedly on her way to check on said mage. Did he think this was funny? To disappear without so much telling him? Or perhaps this was his petty revenge for what had happened in the emporium? It was an illogical and poorly-thought-out revenge, even for the mage. 

He growled in frustration, causing the child to yelp and attempt to further meld with the wall. Right, the child, Fenris had almost forgotten him. The child couldn’t be from Hightown, that much he was sure of, none of those noble brats would ever be caught wearing a linen tunic, nor would their parents let them wander into Lowtown on their own, much less into the Hanged Man. Unless the child was kidnapped of course. 

In fact the child might not be a Marcher. 

Redish blond hair, amber eyes and pale skin. Traits he hadn’t seen in those born in the Free Marches. There was only one person he knew who had those traits: Anders. Yes, now that he thought of it, he could see the resemblance. Perhaps the child was Anders’? But why did he leave the brat here and disappear? 

No matter, he was tired of waiting but couldn’t leave the child there alone while he looked for Anders in his Darktown hovel. Hawke wouldn’t approve of it if she came and saw the child by himself. He reached to take the child to Varric or maybe Isabela, anyone as long as it wasn’t him. 

The child however seemed to misinterpret his intentions, as he screamed and tried to get away from him, not that he had anywhere to run to, unless he was brave enough to run pass Fenris. 

He had grabbed the child’s arm and dragged him off, kicking and screaming to Varric’s. The child’s cries were more or less drowned out by the rambunctious laughter below. So he did not earn any curious gazes as he made his way to Varric’s suite. A few quick knocks and the door was unlocked. 

Stepping into Varric’s room, the dwarf in question took his usual seat by the fire, “Who’s the kid, Broody?” 

“I do not know. The mage’s perhaps. I found him in our room,” Fenris said dismissively as he pulled the panicking child inside and brought him to Varric, “Speaking of the mage. Have you any word on him yet?” 

Varric was far better at dealing with the child than he was, already Varric had gotten the child to calm down and talk to him, albeit in a weak and hesitant voice. But still it was progress in finding out what he was doing in the room. 

“I’ll take note not to hire you for babysitting duty.” Varric sighed looking at the bruise forming on the child’s arm, “My men haven’t come back yet. So no, I haven’t gotten any word on where Blondie has run off too. He might have headed to his clinic. He is usually there. And before you ask: sure, I’ll watch the kid for you.” 

With quick thanks, Fenris left the Hanged Man and made his way to Anders’ clinic. He paid no mind to the people moving aside as he passed, his mind too preoccupied with thoughts of all the violent acts he would commit against the mage for putting him in such a position. He knows he shouldn’t bother. Hawke is no magister, she will not punish him. At worst she would give him that disappointed look of hers, but nothing more than that. There would be no whipping nor would be locked into a cell for his failure. 

But this would make the third time he had failed in a task she had given. 

He had sworn that he would not disappoint her again after the second time. 

Reaching the clinic, it was as always busy. There was no sign of the mage there, but his assistants wandered around from cot to cot, caring for their patients as best they could without Anders’ magic. The two of them managed well enough without the mage. But magical methods did not need as much time as its traditional counterpart, time for the treatment itself and time the patient needed to recover, as an end result space and supplies was starting to become an issue. 

He moved through the growing crowd and grabbed hold of one of the assistants, the human looked him over, “Is there something you need? I am kinda busy, if you haven’t noticed.” She brushed her dark hair back from her eyes. Not that it helped, a few strands simply slid back into place over her eye. 

“Did Anders come by here?” He inquired, getting to the heart of the matter. She didn’t want her time wasted and Fenris was all too happy to oblige. 

“No, he hasn’t been by since he left with Hawke yesterday. Did something happen?” He had her full attention now, not that he needed it. 

He shook his head and he saw the other assistant approaching them, the elf features mirrored his colleague’s. “It’s nothing to worry about.” Fenris muttered and left without another word, he had no choice but to return to the Hanged man to face Hawke, it was embarrassing that he a trained bodyguard would fail in such a simple task. Perhaps that is why the mage disappeared on him, to further embarrass him in front of Hawke. He wouldn’t put it past Anders. 

\-- 

When Fenris returned to Varric’s suite, he was unsurprised to find Hawke there with the child sitting on her lap. She was toying with the child’s long hair, tying it in much the same way Anders’ tied his hair. 

He had to admit he did not recognize her, when he had entered the room. In his defense she had her back turned to the door. From behind her black and red ensemble did not seem much even with its gold trimmings, it was the Amell crest that was proudly displayed on at the center of its chestplate was what drew attention to it and its wearer. So it was only when he stood by her side did he catch sight of the crest and realized it was Hawke. 

She craned her neck to face him, “So where is Anders?” she inquired as the child on her lap answered her, “I am here.” 

“Oh, not you sweetie, I know someone else who goes by the name Anders. He was supposed to be here with my friend over there.” She clarified gesturing to Fenris. 

“I do not know where he is,” Fenris held his head low, staring at the floor. He didn’t want to see disappointment reflected in her blue eyes, “He left his things in our room, but I can find no trace of the mage himself. He wasn’t at the clinic either,” He added. 

“Tsk, it’s alright Fenris. Daveth is an excellent tracker.” He raised his head to see her stand up. She had set the boy down on seat and quickly retied her hair into a pony tail, with practiced efficiency it did not take long for to tie her dark hair up. “I’ll leave you and Varric to take care of our little guest while I and Daveth look for Anders,” she smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder, a gesture meant to reassure him all would be well, before disappearing to look for Anders with her mabari. 

It wasn’t so bad at first. Varric had the child’s attention with his exaggerated tales of their adventures. Fenris propped up his sword beside him and sat down across from the boy. He found himself wallowing in his lost memories again. He could always sense them on the edge of his mind, but no matter how hard he tried to reach for them, they were always just a little too far. 

“Is it true?” 

He looked up to meet the small boy’s amber eyes, whatever apprehension the child had for him before was gone, replaced with awe. A look he usually sees on Hawke’s many admirers. He found himself baffled as to why. He gave Varric a fleeting glance and the dwarf only smiled and gestured for him to answer before returning to work on his ledgers, “Is what true?” 

“Did you really kill a magister and her demons?” 

“Uh, yes,” Fenris frowned, he didn’t see why that was a big deal. He had killed a number of things since joining Hawke’s band. From the countless demons that Kirkwall seemed to house, to wild mabaries. The only magister he knew for certain he had killed was Hadrianna. 

“Wow.” 

Fenris turned away from him, feeling a bit odd to be on the receiving end of this sort of attention. Varric chuckled and stole the child’s gaze again and Fenris sighed in relief. He would have thanked the dwarf if he hadn’t suspected it was by Varric’s doing that the child now took special interest in him. 

He pulls his great sword toward him to inspect its blade and to give him something to do until Hawke returned with the mage. It had been a while since he had last used whetstone to sharpen its edge, it still look serviceable. But it would be wise to sharpen it soon, if only for efficiency. He does not shift his focus from the sword nor pay much mind to the child, who for some fool notion had moved to the chair beside him. 

He scowled and looked up from his blade, when it became obvious the boy would not stop watching him, “What?” He growled, causing the child to flinch. 

“Now, Broody is that anyway to treat your fan. Even Hawke knows better than to growl at them,” Varric chided. 

He shifted his attention from the child to the dwarf, “What exactly did you tell him?” 

“Oh you know, a story. One that I knew would interest someone from the Anderfels.” The dwarf shrugged, he leaned back on his chair and smiled, “You do know that the Anders harbor no love for Tevinter? To them, killing a magister is surpassed only by killing an archdemon. So just relax and bask in the adoration. Besides Hawke said to take care of the kid, didn’t she? And don’t look at me like that Broody, I have to finish checking these ledgers, it would do well for my reputation if I was cheated out my gold.” Varric said lifting one of the ledgers as proof he couldn’t entertain the child. 

He blinked at Varric and turned to the child, who was still looking at him nervously. He sighed and set his sword aside, “Just what do you want to ask?” The child brightened, taking his question as a cue to babble and ask Fenris about his grandiose battle for his freedom. 

The attention irritated him at first; the child just would not cease his questions. Varric didn’t seem so interested in intervening, so he ground his teeth and just tolerated the child. He gave the child curt answers to questions, never giving much detail. Hawke won’t enjoy coming back and learning he had given the boy nightmares. 

The child however, stopped prying about his past, only to begin talking about his future. These questions had frustrated Fenris at first, but the child seemed to understand how he felt. The boy stopped questioning him and told him of his own family. 

The boy told his father’s story: having trained all his life since childhood to be a soldier, the man had lost it all after the incident. He had received an injury to the back of his head that forced him to retire early from King’s army. The man had been lucky to have survived it with nothing but a scar to show. But the remainder of his life had become a trial, at least in the beginning. Things that were once easy became a source of frustration. 

His movements were slowed, his coordination was off, he couldn’t even hold a glass of water right. All made worse by the bouts of dizziness and sudden shakes. He was at a lost with what to do with himself, but he refused to just lie down and accept it. He kept moving on, aimless as he was, it was still better than just waiting. He eventually met his wife, she helped him and before long they were married, had children. While he couldn’t wield a sword as well as he did before, he was quite happy. 

Fenris told himself that he listened only to keep the boy from asking him any more questions, but he found himself sympathizing with the father, even found himself asking about a few details of the man’s life. He understood those frustrations as a warrior. He couldn’t imagine how he would live if he could no longer wield his sword. He would most likely be dead, deemed useless by the magister. He doesn’t even know if there was ever a time when didn’t have a blade by his side, ready to cut down anyone foolish to attack him. 

“You seem to admire your father a great deal.” Fenris stated, interrupting the boy from his tale. 

The child nodded, “Yes, I kinda want be like him.” 

Fenris raised a brow at the admission, “A fighter?” 

“No,” the child shook his head slightly, he frowned in thought over his answer, “Well maybe, if my dad or sister will teach me to fight. But mom tells him not to teach us, that one was enough.” 

“I see, but why tell me your father’s story?” He was genuinely interested as to why the boy saw fit to tell it to him. 

“Because you’re a lot like him, the way he was before he met my mom. You’re lost. You got used to doing what other people want, just like my dad always followed his orders. When the orders stopped coming, he kinda just wandered around until he found someone else to give him orders.” The child smiled at him reassuringly, “It wasn’t easy, but they got better in the end. He met my mom and we were happy.” 

Fenris found himself interested in the child, “What is your name?” Fenris questioned. He was starting to find the boy less of an annoyance and perhaps almost likable. 

“Most people in Ferelden just call me, Anders. Only my family calls me by name. They say it was too hard to pronounce. So I don’t mind being called Anders. And I am kinda used to it now.” 

It would be strange to address the child as Anders, when the mage also went by such an alias. The name had never passed his lips without an accompanying tone of annoyance or anger. The young Anders was nothing like the mage Anders. The child was far more pleasant company for one thing, nor was he foolish enough to think mages could simply be set free. 

When he did inquire further about the child’s name; preferring not to call him by the same name as the mage. He didn’t want any confusion should he and the abomination end up in another verbal fight. When the child did give him his name, his attempts to pronounce it resulted in Varric laughing at him. He eventually gave up after failing a third time. 

He shook his head and asked the child what he knew about Tevinter, he could not stop the small smile on his lips as the child recounted the many tales his mother and father had told him about Tevinter. Most of what the boy knew were silly stories used by parents to deter their children from misbehaving, like magisters hiding under beds waiting for naughty children to break their curfew then snatching them away to Tevinter. No magister would be caught dead hiding under someone’s bed, but they did whisk children away, naughty or otherwise. 

A couple, however, were a different kind of story. The child’s father had encountered a few mages from Tevinter during his years as a soldier. Fenris would guess they weren’t magisters, most likely to be foot soldiers or scouts seeking a weakness in the Anderfel’s borders. Still, he took joy in knowing that the mages were killed or, if they were lucky enough to survived, had been forced to retreat back to their cursed homeland. 

The boy had a healthy fear of magic as well, it was something Fenris approved of. It showed when he told him of the abomination and the blood mage. He had asked why no one did anything about the possessed mage in dark town or the blood mage in the Alienage. Fenris reassured him that he could handle it, if either mage turned on Hawke. Danarius’ enemies had been mages like them. It should come as no surprise that he knew how to deal with them to an extent. Blood magic however would still be troublesome. 

Around dusk the child had fallen asleep on his seat. Fenris could not help the small smile on his lips when the boy stubbornly tried to stay awake and continue telling Fenris of his father preparing his sister life as a soldier. 

Fenris had kept himself occupied with wine that Varric had order for him in celebration of the beginning of his fan club as the dwarf put it. Varric on the other hand went about finishing his work checking his ledgers, but occasion looking up from his work to tease the elf about his fan club. 

Fenris hoped Varric was merely joking, though it was hard to tell when the man was serious or not. The last thing Fenris wanted was people asking irritating questions and crowding around him as they did Hawke, watching her deal with them was tiring enough for him. But if the dwarf wasn’t joking, he couldn’t be held responsible for what might happen. 

He was more than relieved to hear the whining of a mabari outside Varric’s door, for no sooner than he had heard Daveth, the door swung open revealing Hawke and her hound. 

Daveth enthusiastically sniffed the child’s clothes and then sat on the ground next to his still sleeping form. Hawke looked thoughtfully at the boy but said nothing. She took the empty seat on the other side of the little Anders. “I couldn’t find Anders, but I did go back to the Emporium. We might need to leave Kirkwall for a while to head for Antiva. Well, not into the City itself, just somewhere close by Antiva.” 

“And why is that Hawke? Come on now, don’t leave me in suspense,” Varric asked, steepling his gloved hands before him. 

“But Varric, you do that all the time with your stories. You’ll have to wait until everyone is here before I divulge what I learned from Xenon. I don’t want to have to repeat myself.” She leant forward onto the table and folded her arms on its surface, laying her head on her arms in a way that had her facing Fenris and the boy sleeping beside him, “So how was the little guy?” 

Varric smiled broadly, “You should have seen them Hawke! Broody is a natural, he and the kid got along fine, after the first couple of hours anyway. But that isn’t important, the elf has his first little fan.” 

She raised her head and an eyebrow at that, “Really? You two got along?” there was a hint of disbelief in her voice, “I didn’t think you two would ever get along.” She added, smiling at the two of them. 

“Yes, we did. But I fail to see what is so significant in that.” He scowled, he turned his attention back to the wine that Varric had order for him in celebration of the beginning of his fan club as the dwarf put it. 

Hawke merely smiled and said nothing more to them. 

\-- 

By the time the others arrived, Hawke had moved the little Anders to sleep more comfortably on Varric’s bed. 

“Alright Hawke, we’re all here. Care to tell us just why we would need to go to Antiva?” Varric inquired. He had waited long enough to hear what Hawke had to say. 

“Anders may have swallowed some of Xenon’s bathing water, and from what Xenon tells me... it wasn’t exactly your regular garden-variety bathing water. It reacts differently depending on the person’s magic.” She held up a hand stopping anyone, specifically Fenris, from interjecting, “In Xenon’s case the water reacts to his curse, stopping him from aging further than he already has. For Anders I suspect it did more than that.” 

Silence descended in the suite as they all took in just what Hawke was implying. It wasn’t so hard to believe, considering the very obvious resemblance. 

“So that little Anders, is our Anders then. I have to say he is a cute kid, nowhere near as angsty as the adult Anders.” Varric said, voicing what the others would not. 

Aveline looked over to Merrill, “Is that even possible, Merrill?” 

“I don’t know, I have never heard of something that could change someone back into a child. But with most of the Dalish text gone, I can’t say it isn’t possible,” Merrill shook her head. She looked down at her hands, lamenting on the loss of her culture, “Maybe it is, or was possible back in the times of the Arlathan, I cannot say.” 

“So, what? The water comes from Antiva? Is there some sort undiscovered fountain of youth there?” Varric remarked, gesturing to her. 

“That is unlikely, Varric. If such a thing existed, I doubt it would remain hidden for long.” Sebastian rolled his eyes at the notion. 

“No, no. Nothing like that I am afraid.” Hawke laughed, ignoring the disappointed groan from Isabela, “The mage that enchants the water lives there on the outskirts of Antiva. So we’ll need to bring Anders to her. Hopefully she can reverse whatever her water did to Anders,” she glanced over her shoulder to Anders, still fast asleep, “before anything can happen, we’ll need a ship. I’ll leave that to you Isabela.” 

“Sure thing, Hawke.” Isabela winked at their leader, “I’ll talk to some of the boys at the docks. It won’t take me long to convince one of them to take us there.” 

“Good. I preferred that. So which one of you can accompany me? Not including you Aveline.” She immediately added seeing the Guard Captain about to voice her reasons for not being able to join in, “I know you’d never leave Kirkwall with the trouble the Qunari are giving the locals. Or should I say, the trouble the locals are giving the Qunari.” She chuckled with a shake of her head, “I’d be foolish to take the only person keeping this place whole away. We’d probably end up coming back to smoldering ruin, if I did that.” 

She looked to Fenris, who was lost in his own thoughts at the revelation, “Fenris your coming along since you started this mess, you’re going to help fix it.” Her voice brokered no argument and the elf simply nodded in response. 

It was a given that Isabela would be joining them as she would handle the ship and its captain. Merrill and Varric volunteered to join, Merrill out of interest and Varric for his connections and the story. Sebastian was still unsure if he could leave with them with his duties to the Chantry, Hawke was certain he wouldn’t be coming but she would keep her mind open. 

Hawke gently picked the child up in her arms once everything was decided, “I’ll take the little one home with me.” She murmured, she glanced to see Fenris still lost in whatever thoughts he had, “Fenris.” She called to him softly, no wanting to disturb the young Anders’ sleep. Unfortunately elf showed no sign of having heard her and continued brooding. 

It took Isabela’s prodding to bring the elf out of his thoughts, he growled at the pirate. Isabela however was unfazed and merely pointed at Hawke’s direction. Following this Fenris shifted his attention from her to Hawke. 

“Could you carry Anders’ things?” She nudging her head to the direction where she had place Anders’ staff, coat, and boots before the others arrived. “He is going to want them once we get him back to his usually mature self. And we have to talk.” Hawke walked out of off the suite not bothering to look back to see Fenris get up from his seat to trail behind her. 

They didn’t speak until they were outside of the Hanged Man, the night air greeted them with its bitter chill. Hawke was grateful her armor covered much of her body. She looked over her shoulder to see Fenris carrying Anders’ things, unfazed by the chill trailing quietly behind her. She was not sure how he could bare wearing what he did; it didn’t seem to offer much protection from blades and the weather. 

“Until we get this all sorted out, you’re officially Anders’ babysitter. I expect to see you in my mansion tomorrow morning, to watch over our baby while I and Bodahn acquire the necessary supplies for our trip.” 

“Are you certain? I do not know what to do with a child.” he voiced in protest. 

She chuckled, “You were doing fine when I left him with you.” 

“Varric instructed me in what I had to do.” He informed her, “Can you not leave him with Varric instead?” 

“Since Varric will becoming with us, I sure he’ll be as busy as I am tomorrow, sorting things out with his guild.” It occurs to her she would have to speak to Hubert as well tomorrow. She sighed tiredly. The man was a decent business partner, he had a good head for the job, but his personality however could be trying at times. She pushed those thoughts aside for later and continued, “And if you recall, told you yesterday that, ‘If anything happened to Anders, I will hold you responsible.’ And something did happen, and now until we get Anders back to normal you will be _responsible_ for him, clear.” 

“Yes.” 

“Good. You could take him to the Chantry, I am sure Sebastian can help you take care of him. I sure he has some experience with kids being a brother and all, if not him the sisters.” She suggested with a grin. 

“I suppose your hoping he’ll cause trouble in the Chantry.” 

“Well I would be lying, if I said I didn’t. All the better if he causes trouble for Petrice. Unfortunately I don’t think little Anders is the type, but I am ever hopeful.” Her gaze wandered to Anders’ sleeping face. She couldn’t help but give in to her instinct to kiss his forehead as she had once done for her siblings when her mother and father couldn’t. The twins couldn’t sleep with someone tucking them into bed. She smiled at the memory. They traveled the remained of the way in silence lost in their own thoughts. 

Hawke turned to face Fenris when they arrived at the door to her estate, “Remember to be here early Fenris. I want to get as much out of the way so we can leave as soon as possible.” 

The elf nodded and they bade each other good night, and went their separate ways. 

\-- 

Fenris awoke just before the sun graced the sky with its warm tones. 

He dressed slowly since he knew Hawke and Anders were most likely still asleep. It was not like his sleep was particularly restful. Hawke wasn’t to blame for that. It was a habit he had acquired during his servitude to Danarius. When the magister had need of him, he would be up long before his master was, or face punishment. 

He glanced at the window as he clasped on his breastplate. The sky had gained an orange hue and soon he would hear his _neighbor_ ’s servants readying for another day. The ones in charge of the laundry were especially noisy with their gossiping. He was almost impressed by their punctuality, if they had done something more than just gossiping. At the very least, they made an effective alarm, or maybe a rooster. 

He sat down on the bed and looked over his greatsword, propped up against the wall by his bedside. He took the sword and carefully rested it on his lap. He traced one of the numerous scratches on the blade with a clawed finger of his gauntlet. 

It was a weapon, but he also used its flat surface as a shield to deflect attack and sometime he was forced to defend with its edge which resulted in groove on its blade. He generally avoided defending that way. 

_A keen edge could mean the difference between life and death._

He paused that was something Anders had told him yesterday, it was advice his father had given his sister. It was a good advice. 

He did at one time trust his sword, more than he did Hawke. He could not sleep well unless the blade was within his reach. 

He put little effort in concealing his location from slavers. He was in a way the worst kept secret of Hightown. 

He could not count the number of times he had awoken to faint noises outside his door in the middle of the night. He would immediately grab his sword to locate the source, but most of the time he would end up searching the entire mansion for intruders. So far his intruders were either Hawke coming in unannounced or furry rodents of a considerable size and for that he was thankful. 

He prodded the deepest indentation on the edge of the blade. Since he had time he laid the sword on the bed and walked to the chest he kept hidden in the corner of his room and took out the tools he would need to sharpen the edges of his sword. He laid them on his bedside table and set to work sharpening it as best he could. 

His mind began to wander as he worked on the blade. He wondered where he had learned to fight with a blade. When he could finally stand on his own after the ritual, Danarius had taken his to a practice yard and given him a choice of weapons. 

It had felt natural to hold a sword in his hand. He had never questioned it before but now he wondered where he had learned to fight. 

Was it something Danarius had taught to him before the ritual? Or perhaps something his father had taught to him, just like Anders’ father taught his daughter. Did his sister also know how to fight with a sword as well? If she did, maybe they could spar together when she comes to Kirkwall. If not, maybe he could offer to teach her. 

He unconsciously smiled as his mind ran through several scenarios of meeting his sister again. He knew it was unlikely any of them would happen. He was all but certain their meeting would be a trap by slavers, Danarius, or some other magister hoping to gain a favor for help recapture an escaped slave. 

But he could not stop himself from hoping, and his talk with Anders certainly did not help crush it. 

He stopped and shook the fantasies out of his head, he hasn’t even sent her a message yet and here he was thinking what to say to her already. He had put off writing to her, making one excuse after another. But now he knew how to write to an extent thanks to Hawke. He anticipated the worst to happen and fear not only of Danarius but also his sister kept him from writing. What if she did not want to see him? 

Fenris thought again about Anders’ family and how happy Anders was just talking about them. With a determined look, he resolved to send her word to her before they left for Antiva. 

He left his mansion once he had heard the familiar gossiping coming into his window. 

The streets of Hightown were just starting to come to life. Most of those out this early were servants going heading out to do their chores, they gave a wide berth, no doubt intimidated by the heavy blade on his back. Not that he minded, he preferred it that way. 

When he had arrived Orana and Bodahn were on their way out, they greeted each other at the door and Bodahn told him Hawke was waiting for him in the library. He nodded his thanks to the dwarf and slipped inside. 

Inside he could hear Anders voice echoing through the house. Merrill had once said ambience in the manor felt lonesome, since Leandra’s death. He moved on to from the foyer to the library, from the doorway he could see Hawke, still wearing her house robes, sitting on the couch in front of the fire with Anders on her lap and a book in her hand. He cleared his throat to catch her attention. She lifted her attentions from the book and spotted him, “Sorry, I did not hear you come in.” 

She handed Anders the book and lifted him enough so she could get up, she left him seated on the chair and approached Fenris, “He is much more talkative than Carver and Bethany combined when they were his age, if he wasn’t afraid of magic. I would have asked Merrill to babysit instead, I bet they could babble on and on for a whole day.” She chuckled. She shook her head, “I told him you’ll be the one to who’ll take care of him until we can take him back to his mother.” 

“That is what you told him?” Fenris looked behind Hawke to see Anders. Anders was leaning against the armrest, towards their direction in an attempt to discreetly listen in on them. 

She shook her head, “That is what Varric told him yesterday to get him to calm down. Varric told him our Anders was playing with an experimental magic, etcetera, etcetera. And that spell caused them to switch places. He made Varric promise to help him get back home.” 

“And he did not question why we’re going to Antiva?” 

“He did. He knows his family lives in Ferelden, but he does not know where exactly in Ferelden, so we shall be consulting another mage to find them.” She explained. She walked pass the elf as she continued, “So now that you’re here I shall go get ready to leave. If my chat with Hubert doesn’t take too long I’ll be back here by lunch. But if it does and you need me for something, I will either be in the Lowtown Bazaar or the Gallows talking to Bethany hopefully, if I can persuade the Templars to let me meet with her on short notice.” With that Hawke disappeared into her room to change, leaving Fenris to deal with Anders. 

Anders abandoned the book and pretense of reading, the boy was kneeled on the couch his hands on the armrest. He smiled and looked eagerly at the elf. 

Fenris fidgeted, he was at a lost with what to do with the child. He had little to no experience with them. And he was not sure if what little he has seen of childcare in Tevinter was applicable. The children of a magister had slave cater to them no different from their parents but they a number of them were just as cruel as their parents. Children of slaves were treated different from the adults but the weak were used as blood sacrifices. 

The latter was obviously not an option, but perhaps the first had some merit. As much as he detested it, the similarity between the children of noble and magisters were not too difficult to see, servants trailed behind their young charges like slaves to magister. 

But from the look on Anders’ face reminded Fenris of the men and women who frequented the Hanged Man just for Varric’s stories on Hawke or Hawke herself. 

To see such a look on the mage and to know he was the cause. 

Mage. Could he even still call Anders that? From their lengthy talk yesterday, it seemed like Anders was unaware of his magic. He distantly recalled Anders telling Hawke his magic had manifested late in his childhood. How old did Anders say he was when his magic awoke? 

Fenris’ train of thought was cut short when Hawke tapped him on his shoulder, “And one more thing, if you don’t mind. Anders can’t exactly wear his oversized tunic for the whole trip so, could you take Anders to Lirene’s and buy him a change of clothes and a pair of shoes.” 

Fenris rolled his eyes and bit back a comment about the uncalloused feet the humans seem to be so proud off. 

“I can’t have him walking around with bare feet. No offense but we humans don’t really get the appeal of walking without shoes, on sandy beaches yes but not crowded cities or forests.” She handed him a pouch of gold, which he was certain would have more coin than what was needed for the purchase. 

And then Hawke was gone again leaving him alone with Anders, at least now he had something to do other than stand around awkwardly. 

For a few minutes he pondered on how to get Anders there without letting the boy walk barefooted through the dirt streets. He did not want Anders stepping into something sharp on the way, which is usually the case with Lowtown. In the end he opted in carrying the boy there in the same fashion Hawke had the night before, Anders was more than willing to let Fenris carry him to Lirene’s shop. On the way Anders filled the silence with aimless chatter, subjects ranging from what games he liked to play, to his sword – Anders was at least smart enough not to touch it. 

There were only a few other people at Lirene’s store besides himself and Anders, from the look of their clothing they were refugees. 

He placed Anders on the counter and relayed Hawke’s request. Lirene nodded and set to work taking Anders measurements, before head to the back room to fetch the clothes and a pair of shoes. 

Anders kicked his feet, and carried on talking about whatever came to his mind which currently was on food, specifically pie. Fenris pondered if Anders would ever run out of things to say. That talkativeness seemed to be the only thing the two Anders had in common. 

After ten minutes of waiting, Lirene returned with a helper of hers with a couple sets of clothes and a pair of shoes. Once Lirene was sure they all fit Anders, she offered to have the clothes delivered to Hawke’s home for him. Fenris muttered a quick thanks and paid her, he dropped a few gold pieces into the donation box as Hawke always did when she visited before the leaving the store. 

Now equipped with a pair of shoes, Anders wandered around the market place, trying to locate where the scent of pies were coming from with his nose, Fenris did not mind and followed the boy’s lead. A couple drunken bumped into him; they smelled faintly of perfume the whores at the Rose wore. Fenris attempted to move around them or at least catch sight of Anders, but the drunks refused to move out of his way without a proper apology in gold coins. So he quickly resolved his altercation with the drunkards with a bit of brute force. 

Once sailors were taken care of Fenris surveyed the immediate area for Anders, but the child was nowhere in sight. He circled the market place twice but still there was no sign of Anders, he head up the step to Hightown hoping Anders might have gone back to Hawke’s. Halfway up the stairs he almost tripped on the stairs when felt a small hand take his. 

“Were you waiting for me here?” He inquired. He never thought he would feel relieved to hold Anders’ hand. 

Anders nodded, “Yup, I sometimes went to the markets with mother. She told me, if we ever got separated, I should wait for her at the market’s entrance.” 

“Smart woman.” Fenris commented. 

They headed up the steps and to Hawke’s estate, Bodahn and Orana were had already returned from their trip, Hawke however had not returned from her talk with Hubert. 

On Bodahn insistence, Fenris and Anders ate lunch at the estate. It had been an awkward affair, not that Anders seemed to notice as he all but devoured anything remotely sweet on the table. 

After their meal, they spent the rest of the day in Hawke’s library, since Fenris’ home was hardly a place to bring a child to. Varric and Hawke may have gotten rid of the corpse that once decorated his foyer but the mansion was littered with various hazards like glass from the numerous wine bottles he had thrown at the walls. 

Sometime late in the afternoon Isabela dropped by and joined them in the library. She told Anders about life on the sea, most being exaggerated tales. Fenris remembered a number of her tales, he relieved that she omitted a number of inappropriate parts from her stories, specifically the sexual exploits the pirate was fond of. 

That was how Hawke found them in them, sitting on the floor by the library’s fireplace. 

“I had a bit of trouble in the Gallows. Nothing I could not handle.” Hawke’s voice held a weary tone. She seated herself on the vacant couch behind them, sighing happily as sank down onto the cushions. “Did you find a ship willing to take us to Antiva and back?” Hawke asked Isabela. 

Isabela nodded, “Yes, I found a captain willing to take us to Antiva. He was scheduled to set sail tomorrow, but he can delay for a day, if we need more time to prepare.” 

“But? There is always a ‘but’ Isabela.” 

“Well it isn’t that big of a but.” Isabela shrugged. “The ship belongs to a merchant’s brother. He travels back and forth from Kirkwall to Antiva, for their more exotic goods. He has agreed to take us to Antiva and back. And he does not mind waiting for a couple days if our business isn’t done by the time his is done.” Isabela explained, “But he won’t stall longer than a couple weeks at most and we have to pay him at least half of the fare in advance.” 

Hawke sighed and leaned back further, “Well that sounds pretty good.” It was clear to Fenris Hawke was suspicious, “And just where and how did you find this ship?” 

“I knew his sister, the merchant, back in Rivain. I helped them start their business. So I called in a favor. And we were a bit lucky.” Isabela clasped a companionable hand on Fenris’ shoulder, “Had you done what you did on a later date, you would have been stuck babysitting for void knows how long.” 

“Alright, then we set sail after tomorrow.” Hawke nodded with a pleased smile, “Have you told Varric yet?” 

“I was just going to. And since I’ve done what I came here to do…” Isabela stood up, “I shall go and tell him now. I’ll be in the Hanged Man tomorrow talking with the captain Jeraldo, if you want to meet him.” She smiled down at Anders and ruffled his blond hair before she walked out into the night, back to her room at the Hanged Man. 

Hawke turned to Fenris, “Sorry I didn’t come back in time for lunch. The Templars wouldn’t let me see Bethany today, something about schedules and what not. But I did convince them to let me see her tomorrow morning.” She paused twiddling her thumbs, “So would you be alright with coming back here tomorrow to watch over Anders? Bodahn will be leave for the market again in the morning. And I need someone to look after him while I tell Bethany that I’ll be gone for a while.” 

“I do not mind.” Fenris answered her curtly. She smiled brightly and they talked for a while on what Anders and he had been up too on their own with Anders doing most of the talking between the two of them. Anders mostly relayed Isabela’s tales and made no mention of Fenris losing him in the market to Fenris’ relief. 

Seeing that Hawke had no further plans for the day, Fenris excused himself to prepare for the trip. As soon as he was back in his own room he set to work packing up what meager belongings he had. 

\-- 

The following day would pass quickly for some, people like Isabela. She was eager to get back to the sea even if it was only temporarily and on a ship that was not hers. 

For Fenris, it was simultaneously long and short. 

He was anxious to set sail but he still felt like he was not ready to leave. The morning was at least better with the lack of incidents involving losing children in market places. Then again he may have cheated by bring Anders to the Chantry, and getting Sebastian to help him take care of the child. 

Much like himself, Sebastian was surprised with how different Anders was. As a child, it seemed Anders had been as devout Andrastian as Sebastian and had far more respect for the brother than his older self would have had. An older Anders would have scowled and replied sarcastically to almost everything Sebastian had to say. 

Instead somehow the two of them ended talking about the differences between the Chantry, Anders had gone to with his family, to Kirkwall’s Chantry. 

Two hours after lunch Varric dropped by to check on Anders for Hawke, since the woman was still in the Gallows talking to Bethany. He was not surprised Sebastian and Anders got along, the dwarf had meet a few from the Anderfels, most were just passing by but all of them had at one point visited the Chantry. 

“The Anders come in two flavors of devout, priest and soldier, and both are equally grumpy, you fit right in with them Broody.” Varric had joked. 

Anders confirmed what Varric had said, rather proudly he told them both his parents were soldiers, but his mother was not one of the soldier that patrolled the borders of the Anderfels, instead she patrolled the city streets as a guardswoman. From what little Anders had said about his mother, she was not unlike Aveline in terms of keeping promises, but she was less strict and valued family over all else. 

It also became obvious that Anders grew up on stories from his mother and father. 

Varric shook his head, chuckling he muttered something under his breath. Fenris barely made out the words ‘It figures’. Much to Anders delight, the dwarf gave him some sweetmeat before taking his leave of them to take care of a few more things he needed done. 

Fenris huffed, amused by Anders glee as he ate all the sweets, after he and Sebastian decline Anders offer to partake of the candy with him. 

Sebastian kept Anders busy playing some sort of game that involving ruining Sebastian’s bed to make a fortress out of the pillows and coverlets, Fenris just rolled his eyes and asked Sebastian for writing tools. 

Fenris was determined to work on his own personal quest, writing to his sister. 

He did not know how Varric, Isabela, and Hawke made the task look so easy. The three wrote correspondents every day and it never took them more than an hour to come up with an appropriate response. Yet Fenris felt like hours had passed and all he had written was his sister name, he was certain Varric and Isabela could write an entire novel in the span it would take him to come up with a single sentence. He growled in frustration, so tempting to just… 

“What are you doing?” 

Fenris blinked, looking up from the infernal piece of parchment, he saw Anders’ amber eyes peeking from the side of the writing desk, “I am writing.” He answered curtly. 

“To whom?” Sebastian stood behind and he knew the man was peering at the parchment. Not that it matter it was still very much blank. 

“My sister.” He paused to think on whether he could ask for some help. Surely Sebastian would have some clue as to what he should write. Eventually he conceded Sebastian was a good friend of his and Hawke’s, “I want to meet her, but I do not know what to say to her or if she even remembers me.” 

“Oh. Ask her to be your pen pal then.” Fenris looked questioningly at Anders. “My sister had one because she missed the Anderfels, and her pen pal visited us with her family after they exchanged letters for a year. So maybe just tell her you want to talk to her and maybe see her.” Anders suggested. 

“Anders makes a good point. She will most like not believe you are who you say you are, so it’ll take some convincing.” Sebastian added. 

He thanked them both and went back to work on his letter. Sebastian took Anders away to play down stairs, so he could write without disturbance. 

In the end the letter was not long. It was mostly straight to the point. Consisting of a short introduction of who he was and how he knew of her, which he hoped was acceptable, along with a small notice that he would be out of Kirkwall for a while with an estimate of when he might be back. 

Fenris reread the letter, looking for mistakes until the ink had dried. Then he was out of excuse to delay it, he sighed and carefully folded the letter. 

Down stairs he spotted Anders and Sebastian talking on one of the pews on the upper area of the main hall. He approached them and told asked Sebastian to watch over Anders a little longer, while he had to take his letter to Varric. 

Sebastian agreed to watch over Anders for him while he was out on his errand, with that he left the Chantry. 

Fenris was glad to see Varric was in his suite, when he arrived. He let the dwarf look over his letter and reassured the elf that it would get to his sister without Danarius catching wind. 

When he returned to the Chantry, he felt alarmed to see Sebastian alone without Anders. He was lucky Sebastian clarified that Anders was fine before he had done something he would undoubtedly end up regretting. Sebastian was merely playing hide and seek or Sardinen as Anders called it. Not that they could play Anders’ version correctly with only two people. 

Sebastian casually pointed out several sisters by and sitting on the pews, the younger ones were chuckling while the older sisters looked disapprovingly at someone, but they had all but given Anders’ hiding place away. 

He thanked his friend and the rest of the day went by with further trouble. 


	2. Chapter 2

Then all too quickly it was finally time to set sail, it had been a while since he had last set foot on a ship. But he was relieved that they were finally on their way to curing Anders and then everything will be as it was before. 

He turned his head to the Docks to see Hawke and his charge bidding Bodahn, Sandal, and Orana goodbye. Daveth was in the middle of giving Hawke a rather slobbery farewell. 

Out their group only Aveline had elected to stay, no one was surprised really, the Qunari were growing restless but it felt like so long Aveline was there, Kirkwall would not fall to them or the fanatic in the Chantry. 

Once Hawke had boarded with Anders, the captain barked orders to his crew to raise anchor and set sail for Antiva. 

It was then Isabela approached them more than happy to inform Hawke and him, what happened to children who wandered the streets of Antiva alone, they were either kidnapped, killed, or _recruited_ by the Crows. 

“What was the difference between being kidnapped and being _recruited_ by the Crows?” Hawke of course just had to ask. Fenris already knew of the Crows, the magisters talked about them on occasion, a part of him was glad Anders was too occupied with waving goodbye from the side of the deck to listen in on their conversation. 

“Well, Hawke. In a kidnapping they will demand a ransom in return for the kidnapped. While when the Crows _recruit_ they do it for keeps, no ransom demands and no chance to get him back.” Isabela explained. “I thought it would be a good idea to give you a sense of how things are done in Antiva.” She smiled then sauntered away to speak with the captain. 

Hawke turned to Fenris and reminded him he was responsible for Anders’ wellbeing, before following Isabela up the stairs to the wheel where the captain was talking to Isabela and his first mate. 

Fenris muttering a few Tevinter curses at Isabela until he felt a familiar hand grab his own. He was starting to get use to Anders’ need for contact. The child had frequently taken his hand, if not his then it was one of others’, excluding Merrill. 

It was easy to fall back on old habit of being a bodyguard to a mage or someone, since Anders had yet to show signs of his magic. 

He shadowed Anders as the child explored the ship, but he did make certain Anders did not go into place he should not be. He was glad Sebastian came along in the end. Hawke and Varric were often too busy talking to the captain. And when she was not talking to the captain, Hawke took advantage of the peace, she was often on deck or in her bunk, napping or reading a book. Catching up on some me time, she called it. 

The elf could not blame her, since she had purchased the Amell estate a number of nobles had approached her family, hoping to gain prestige or looking for a way to get rid of the Ferelden upstart. Leandra was the one that dealt with them, but she was gone now, leaving Hawke to deal with them all personally. She had more than once said she would much rather fight a high dragon than the false smiles and hidden agendas of the nobility. 

Varric on the other hand, complained about the lack of excitement. He muttered about adding raider ship or some sort of monstrosity from the deep when he penned their journey down. He had voiced his hope that Antiva would be a different story. Hawke however continued to be hopeful that their luck would hold until their return to Kirkwall. 

While Varric and Hawke argued about their ideal vacation, Isabela spent her time talking to the ship’s captain, Jeraldo. About what he did not know, nor was he interested in finding out what the two Rivainis were talking about. But Hawke had hinted out the two were merely talking about their previous encounter, which unsurprisingly had certain themes she did not want Anders over hearing and told him to Anders well away from them. 

Sebastian coming with them made things easier for Fenris, when Anders could not bother Hawke or Varric. He went to the priest. The other man was far more used to handling children than him. Sebastian taught Anders games he used to play as a child. 

And Sebastian being there help keep Anders attention away from the elf, Fenris was largely uncomfortable with the little Anders’ attention. 

The warrior followed Anders around those pass few days watching him talk with the others and rarely joining in, he mostly listened to what Anders talked about. The boy clearly loved his family and was a bit of a mother’s boy. Fenris felt some pity for the boy, it seemed magic had tainted the mage’s life as well and possibly ruined his relationship with his family. Just as it had ruined the elf’s. 

It had change Anders so drastically from this little boy, into the stubborn man he knew. 

The differences between the man and child were made glaringly obvious in his dealing with Merrill, Anders had at first avoided the other mage, much to Merrill’s disappointment. Anders spoke to everyone except her, but that did not seem to dissuade her, she made an effort to connect to the little Anders. 

Merrill spouted things an older Anders would have said, talking about how magic was not evil, and that he had nothing to fear from her. After a few day with the urging of Hawke, Varric, and Isabela; Anders began to talk to Merrill, Fenris however could see how tense the boy was, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. Anders was expecting the worst of her but he did an admirable job hiding it. Either that or Merrill was purposely ignoring the cautious way Anders treated her. 

It was a strange thought to know that there was truly a time when Anders was as afraid of magic, perhaps not as afraid of it as he was but still it was an odd sight. 

Merrill had thrilled when Anders agreed to give her magic a chance. 

Sebastian leaded against the rails beside him as they watched Merrill summon a small wisp of light; it would be the first spell Anders would have seen since the accident that turned him into a child. “He is different isn’t he?” Sebastian mused. 

Fenris regarded his friend nod, “It is confusing.” 

Sebastian chuckled, “I am tempted to ask Hawke, if we could turn the ship around and leave him like that. It would certainly be more peaceful, if we did.” 

“She would never agree. A child is a liability and not much use in her travels.” Fenris answered curtly never taking his eyes off the young Anders. Just in case. Anders own nervous gaze darted to him more than once. At this rate he was sure Anders would end up hiding behind the elf again like he had when Merrill had first approached them on the ship. Small hands clung tightly to his forearm. 

Merrill did not seem deterred and held out the ball of light in her out stretched palm, waiting to see if Anders would reject it or take the offering, small proof that magic was not something he needed to fear. 

“Are you sure that all? Or is it the hero worship he gives you. Varric has told him stories about how you save Orana and killed her master, who turned out to be a pride dragon abomination. He might as well have called it an arch demon. Children will believe almost everything.” The archer said sympathetically as Fenris groaned and mumbled curses at the dwarf. 

“I wager Anders would have been happier without his magic, I can see him becoming a brother in the Chantry. He knows the chant better than the children in Kirkwall.” Sebastian smiled fondly at Anders of all people. 

But the priest was right, Fenris could see Anders becoming a priest and perhaps a solider, fighting beside his older sister. It didn’t matter though, Anders wouldn’t become either he was a mage. For a moment Fenris frowned wondering if it was a good idea to lie to the boy and promise to take him where he couldn’t go back anymore. 

Those thoughts vanished as Merrill clapped her hands. Anders had taken the wisp and now carefully rolled it in his hands. But after an hour caution gave way to curiosity, and finally as with all children who find themselves in the possession of a new toy. He played with it, tossing the wisp into the night sky as if it were a normal rubber ball. 

Merrill beamed happily as they had watched Anders play with the little ball of light. 

It had been a small step but a victory for Merrill as Anders began approaching her on his own violation, but never without Fenris in tow. She would call forth a small wisp for Anders on dark nights, too keep him company. 

For Fenris the ball of light made things easier, it was hard to lose something that was practically glowing. 

But the warrior frowned and contemplated on that small act. There should be no surprise that Anders took the wisp in the end. What the boy knew of magic came from tales told by the Chantry and his parents, he did not know the full extent of what Fenris had gone through in Tevinter. 

\-- 

He sighed and leaned against the railing. Glad that it wouldn’t be long until they reached Antiva. 

This whole mess was confusing him. When thought about who the child was, who he would grow up to be. Fenris could still hardly wrap his mind around it. It confused his feeling and thoughts on the mage and his talk with Sebastian had not helped. 

If he started talking about how mages needed to be kept in Circles, this Anders would only listen and nod in agreement perhaps, it was not the response he was used to, no furious rants on how blind he was. The longer he spent watching the boy, the more he thought about the boy and the mage he would become. 

“Fenris?” 

The elf cuts his train of thought and looked down to his charge who sat crossed legged on the floor beside him, “Yes?” 

“You’ve been brooding for hours?” The boy whined. Anders could only stay quiet for so long without anyone to distract him, his attention fell on the elf. 

Fenris huffed, annoyed by the accusation, “I do not brood.” He surveyed the deck looking for someone to take Anders’ attention off him. But it seemed that everyone was occupied now that they would be in Rivain, the captain had estimated they would reach the docks by noon tomorrow. 

Now Hawke, Varric, and Sebastian spent most of their time talking to Jeraldo. Fenris had listened in on them when he could, he had hear bits and pieces but enough to have some understanding of what they were discussing. They were talking or asking about things in Antiva and about Xenon’s magic water. They had avoided giving away too much to the ship’s captain. 

“But Varric says – ” 

“You should not listen to the dwarf too much.” Fenris cut Anders off. 

“Then what were you doing?” 

“Thinking.” 

“About what?” 

Amber eyes looked up at him inquisitively. It would seem Anders would not leave him alone to his thoughts. He sighed and sat down on the ground, “You did not seem to like magic and yet you readily took it in your hand.” 

“My father said to be cautious, not afraid. If you afraid then they’ve already won.” Anders stated as he toyed with a bit of loose string from the hem of his tunic. 

“They?” 

“Anything you’re afraid off. From the mage to the monsters in your closet.” The child smiled sheepishly. “There weren’t any monsters though, it was just my sister.” 

Fenris huffed again, this time out of amusement. 

It seemed they were doubly luck they had chartered Jeraldo’s ship, the man had dealing with a shop that sold water that made one look younger. There was no guarantee that if it was true or if it really was just a scam but at least they had something to go on. 

Their ship arrived at Antiva just as the captain said around noon. They set off almost immediately after a quick lunch. Hawke split their group in two to quicken their pace; she took Isabela and Sebastian with her while he traveled with Varric and Merrill, Anders tagging along behind him much to his dismay. It was not safe in Antiva for the child, but the boy had gotten tired of the ship and as kind as Jeraldo was to offer to look after Anders, he was still a stranger to the child. So Fenris held Anders’ hand to prevent another market incident. 

Varric did not ease his anxiety, by telling him to assume every man, woman, and child was an assassin or at least working for one. 

It was not particularly exciting, trailing behind Varric while he spoke to his contacts looking for the water bearer as Varric had dubbed their target. 

Anders slowed down when they came upon the markets, the stalls there were far more decorated then the ones at Kirkwall but his attention was not on the more ornate ones, instead he looked at a small stall, it sold a few fabrics and sewing materials, “Is there something you want?” he asked. 

“Hmm?” Anders gazed up at the elf, and bit his lip, “It just a toy, nothing important.” 

“Which one?” Fenris lead them to the stall Anders had been looking at. Varric was still not done talking to his contact and all the idleness combined with the stares Fenris was getting was agitating him, this was more than welcomed distraction. 

Anders looked uncertainly at him, but with some encouragement Anders relented and pointed out a rather worn looking stuff toy shaped like a cat; if the cat had one short hind leg, patches of mismatched fur from where the seamstress misjudged the length, and was missing an eye. Fenris gave the child a questioning look. 

“My sister was terrible at sewing. She tried making me and my little brother a stuffed toy but it kinda end up looking like that, except hers was worse.” Anders chortled. 

Fenris’ lip twitched just slightly, he nodded and inquired about the old toy, the shopkeeper had thought he was joking at first but in the end sold it to him cheaply, since she had been thinking of just throwing it away. 

Anders was thrilled with his new acquisition and named it Ser Patchedpaws. 

Fenris rolled his eyes and lead them back to Varric. 

\--

\-- 

At the end of their first day in Antiva, they were exhausted but the day had been successful. 

Hawke had followed up on the lead the captain gave them and one of Varric’s contacts had given them more than just a name, the name of their water bearer was Anita. Anita visited the stores she supplied at the end of every week to deliver a new batch of water. One small detail that Xenon told them seemed to be wrong, either that or Anita was lying about not being a mage, not that it mattered so long as she could reverse what the water did to Anders. 

The shopkeeper and Varric’s contact said Anita was an elf, who lived in the richer districts of the city with her lovers. Varric’s contact was willing to meet with all of them tomorrow to show them the way to Anita’s manor. 

Merrill was the first to wake, the following day. She then proceeded to wake them all up in her eagerness to meet her fellow elf, learning Anita was an elf had made her hopeful that the water was indeed something from Arlathan’s time. 

As early as it was Varric’s contact was already there waiting for them in the tavern, Hawke questioned the man about Anita to get some idea as to what kind of woman they were dealing with. He answered what questions he could. Anita was a worldly woman and fit in well enough with Antiva’s nobility, it helped that not many nobles protested to her joining their ranks possibly because she made the water that kept them young, most in fact had tried to befriend the elf to learn her secrets. So far no one was able to find out how exactly she made it. 

Varric’s contact led them to a lavish manor that outshone Hawke’s own home. Varric handed the contact some coin as thanks for the man’s help. 

Hawke used the knocker on the door to announce their presence. Fenris lip quirked just a bit as he took note of how her hands twitched with a need to pick the lock, their illustrious leader wasn’t quite use to waiting. They at least did not have to wait too as a servant let them into the sitting room, he had asked them to take a seat while he headed up to inform Anita of their arrival. 

Anita had taken her time dressing up, before going down stairs to meet with them. That much was evident when she showed up dressed in the fine silks that complimented her olive skin, her red hair and neck were adored with jewelry. “What brings you such people of your class here?” She question looking a bit disinterested. 

Hawke gave Fenris a look that told him to take Anders away. They had all agreed after seeing how Anders initially acted around Merrill, that talks concerning curing the child might confuse Anders or push him away from them. But most of all they had agreed it was best if Anders did not know he was a mage. 

Fenris shepherded Anders out of the room, and back into the foyer, Anders plopped down to sit on the staircase and Fenris choose to lean against the banister. 

“Is she the one that’s going to help me get home?” Anders asked in a hopeful tone. 

Fenris nodded unsure how else to respond, to the boy’s inquiry. Funny how felt difficult it was to lie to the boy now, after all this time. In the end his answer was only half true, “She will help.” Help him change back into a man, a mage who has never once mentioned his family. 

Anders smiled broadly at him and clutched Ser Patchedpaws closer to his chest. “Will you visit?” 

“Visit?” He looked confused. 

“When I get back home, will you visit? My father and sister would love to meet someone who beat a magister.” 

Fenris was saved having to reply when someone interjected themselves into their conversation. 

“I heard you’re friends talking about the water, and I’ll tell you now that you’re asking the wrong person.” 

Fenris turned to see the speaker, another elf but not dressed as elaborately as Anita but not as shabbily as the servants, “And you are?” 

She tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear and approached them, “Mal, a friend of Anita’s. Or think I still am. Anita has changed since I first met her, we used to ridicule the nobles and now she is one of them. Practically throwing coin everywhere since that mage came to us.” 

Now Fenris was interested and stood straight, “Mage?” Anders stood beside him to take his hand, nervous perhaps at the sudden shift in the mood. 

The other elf nodded, “She called herself, June and she was the one who made the water, she had asked me and Anita to sell them for her in exchange we got to keep forty percent of the profits, which is a lot considering all we do is take them from point B to point A.” 

“Where is this June?” Fenris demanded. He felt Anders hand tighten around his. 

“She lives outside Antiva City in a cave she craved with her magic. It is a lot prettier than you think. A word of warning though, June is the distrustful sort. She’ll probably stop dealing with me and Anita, if I bring you to her.” Mal answered, muttering the last part. She glanced back at the sitting room where her friend spoke to the guests and made her decision, “So do you want to go now or later?” 

“If you’re lying.” 

“I am not but if you don’t believe me then fine, just know that Anita can’t help you.” 

Fenris grabbed her arm when she moved to take her leave and told her to meet them outside, she nodded exited the house. He headed back into the sitting room calling out to Hawke, interrupting the woman from continuing their tale, but from the looks Anita was giving Anders it was obvious she knew more than enough already. Fenris gave her a warning growl and told her to leave for a while. 

Anita huffed but left without another word and Fenris shut the door behind her. He told everything Mal had told him. 

It didn’t take much to convince Hawke to leave to see this _June_. “Anita wasn’t asking the right questions.” She explained to him. She apologized to Anita and claimed to have urgent business elsewhere in the city. Anita had Hawke promised to return once her business was done, promising a cure. But the look in her eye reminded Fenris of the magisters Danarius had once introduced him too. The eagerness to study a new specimen, he was glad Danarius had no desire to share his success with anyone, else… Fenris didn’t want to think about what would have happened. 

\-- 

They meet Mal outside the manor and she led them out of the city, Sebastian had inquired if they might need horse but Mal shook her head and told them it wasn’t far. 

Sure enough it wasn’t a long walk to where they need to be. It was however difficult thanks to the rocky terrain, but it had been only a couple hours away from the city. 

She stopped by what looked like a small cliff face with an opening hidden by the vines and a fallen tree, the entrance however was too narrow anyone to fit in. Instead of squeezing into the small hole Mal called for June and no sooner than she had, Fenris could feel a faint wisp of magic through his brands. The rocks shifted, making the entrance large enough for them to enter without difficulty. 

Aside from the entry way, the cave was nothing out of the ordinary. There were no obvious sign that signs that gave away the mage that dwelled within, except perhaps a number of small holes on the roof of the cave. Small enough they could easily go unnoticed but numerous enough to let in enough sunlight into the cave to let them see the faint outline of the cave’s wall. 

He paid no mind to the quiet chatter around him as he watched the shadows for anything that might wish harm upon them. It didn’t matter to him that Mal assured them there wasn’t anything there that could hurt them, it still paid to be cautious. The last time they weren’t they had been ambushed by dragonlings. 

He held tightly to Anders’ hand as they ventured deeper into the cavern. It seemed the cave was a bit larger than he had expected, with all the pathways, in a way it reminded him of the Darktown’s underground tunnels. 

“Well this is a bit of a maze isn’t it.” Isabela huffed. “Where do the other paths lead too? Dead ends?” Isabela mused, “Because if they don’t then that fancy entrance back there is pretty useless.” 

“Some of them lead to dead end, and some lead back outside. Sort of an emergency exit.” Isabela opened her mouth to retort, but Mal cut her off before the pirate could even voice her thoughts, “All of those entrances are seal just like the one we went through. You would need magic to open them.” 

“Or a lot of people, to move or break it.” Hawke added. 

“Yes, I suppose you could.” Mal said thoughtfully, “It would take a lot of time and those entrances are better hidden than the one we used.” She paused and shook her head, “In truth I am just telling you what June told me. She did not say if there was a passage that leads directly into the city.” 

“She doesn’t trust you?” Sebastian asked. 

“I never said she did. We’re just business partners.” Mal sighed, and rubbed her temple, “Not that I blame her. Once Anita and I started selling her potion or water as most people call it, the nobles suddenly had a change of heart.” She sneered, “Not that they could ever find anything on the potion, since me and Anita were just the middlemen.” 

The path way was a bit confusing with little to no distinguishing marks on the tunnels. But eventually they turned a corner and in the distance, they saw light. Drawing closer they were greeted by the sight of a rather homely looking room, candles lighting what looked like a small study. Two book shelves – neither was as tall as the ones in Hawke’s home - were placed in a corner, books and potion bottles lined it shelves. 

Standing near one of the candles, Fenris felt a slight prickle on his brands. He huffed unsurprised to find the mage had used magic to do something as simple as lighting a candle. 

Sitting on a wooden chair was a human woman, she scowled when she saw them, when she spoke she had a distinct accent that reminded them of Sebastian’s. 

The brunette spared Mal a glance, before focusing on them again, “Who are they?” 

Mal stepped forward, “They were looking for you. Their friend drank the water by accident.” 

“He did not drink too much if he is still alive. I do not see how this concerns me. Now leave me.” June waved them off dismissively. 

Hawke frowned and with all boldness that she was known for grabbed the mage’s shoulder and hoisted the other woman up from her seat, then promptly turned her around and pointed to Anders. 

“My friend was a grown man before; now tell me how that’s not a problem?” 

June looked disbelievingly at Anders, who in turn frowned at her, confused about what the two women were talking about, “How? The potion was not supposed to work like that.” 

“So you see the problem. Now could you please help us? I can pay.” Hawke asked, releasing the woman’s arm. 

June huffed and turned her back on them, “No. I do not need the coin. I have more than enough stowed away, for emergencies such as a deal being broken and being given no choice but to move.” She said as eyed Mal. 

“I am sorry, but it had to be done.” Mal apologized and left them to their devices. 

“Besides it is still not my problem. I gave specific instruction that my potion is _not_ to be drunk at all cost. It’s poisonous and if consumed in large enough quantities can kill, small doses are survivable but with irreversible consequence. If you want proof just talk to the last fool who ignore my instructions, it would however be difficult to get a hold of him since he died. Painfully.” 

Fenris glanced down to Anders, having felt the boy tighten his hold on his hand again. The child had inched closer to him now. Possibly afraid, he could understand they did not know what June was capable of. He from the corner of his eye, he spied the others reaching for their respective weapons. 

Hawke and June argued, the heat of their exchange rose exponential, it felt like only a matter of time before things would take a violent turn. Fenris tensed, ready to act should June decided to retaliate against Hawke with her magic, at worse blood magic. It was hardly going to be an ideal fight; aside from the cave being a cramped space with little room for him to swing his blade with risk of hitting the others, he also had the added burden of a child. 

Out of the blue Merrill screamed, startling them all, enough that even the two women stopped their heated discussion in favor of seeing what caused the elf’s distress. 

They followed Merrill’s gaze to see, trapped pinned beneath Merrill’s staff was a snake, it seemed no longer than three feet with scales of black and white. It flicked its tongue as it wriggled under the staff trying to free itself. 

Isabela drew her dagger but before the rogue could kill the creature, June cried out in alarm. The mage’s magic surged forth and sent Isabela hurtling back, landing hard on her back. 

Fenris tightened his grip on the hilt of his blade, he pushed Anders back behind him and readied to draw his blade. Hawke however intervened, stopping them from harming the mage like she always does. “Easy.” Hawke said, her voice a soothing tone, though one hand still hovered above the hilt of her dagger. Then turned to look at them, making it clear she wasn’t just talking to the mage. 

June’s full attention however was on the snake, fear was etched on the mage’s face, “Let me take my snake. And I swear I’ll help your friend.” Her voice held a pleading tone. “He’s not venomous. He can’t hurt you unless you wrap him around your neck.” 

Hawke seemingly certain June wouldn’t attack them, let her hand fall away from her dagger,“Alright, go on and get him. I am sure Merrill didn’t mean to cause you any distress.” Hawke reassured her. 

Fenris did not know if the mage even heard Hawke, as she moved to kneel down and careful retrieve the serpent. She cooed at the snake and she checked it over for injuries it received from Merrill’s mishandling. 

“Oh, he is a lovely snake. I am sorry, if I hurt him. He caught me by surprise, I felt him brush against my leg and thought he was something else and picked him up. I have gotten bitten by a snake before. I did not mean to over react.” Merrill apologized offering a small smile, “We Dalish don’t wear shoes, so all manner of little creatures get a little too friendly with our feet sometimes.” The comment elicited a chuckle from Isabela. 

The other mage glared at the elf for a while but nodded accepting the elf’s apology. “I glad you didn’t kill him outright at least.” the snake winded its tail around her wrist. 

“Oh no, Marethari told us serpents have a role to play in the forest.” Merrill explained holding her in front of her hands placatingly. 

“So you said you’d help us, are you going to keep your word?” Isabela asked as Varric and Sebastian helped her up. Once up she patted some of the dirt off her clothes and thanked the archers, smiling especially flirtatiously at them. 

“Yes, I will. Just don’t expect me to able to fix this. This is a first after all.” June sighed and fell back on to her chair, “You’ll have to forgive my lack of foresight. I’ve never had guest over or ever expected to have guest. So sit, stand where ever you wish.” She waved dismissively. 

While Hawke seemed pleased the mage was going to help them. For Fenris it was suspicious, June was reluctant to help them and all too quickly was willing to cooperate due to a snake of all things. Still it wasn’t like they could just find some else to help them, _June_ was the only one who knew what the water was made off. 

Hawke leaned most of her weight on the desk propped up against the wall and Varric took a seat on the ground beside her, Bianca in his arms. The dwarf made a point of making it look like he was merely fixing the crossbow’s cocking rings, still worrying perhaps that June would change her mind. 

She started to recount the events that happened in the emporium, with frequent input from Varric. Merrill stood behind June, her eyes occasionally flickering to the brunette, no doubt eager to hear more about the potion. This had a bit of unfortunate side effect on the other mage, who was clearly uncomfortable with the elf being there. Lucky for her, Isabela seemed to have noticed and dragged the blood mage away, taking her to the entrance – After the pirate reassured them she remembered the way – to ask Merrill, if she knew how the cave entrance worked. 

Looking at his charge, who had distanced himself from the elf. It was clear Anders was now apprehensive of them, thanks to Hawke’s outburst. 

Holding tightly to the patchwork doll, Anders would glanced at Hawke’s direction, only to look back at the path they had taken, perhaps deciding if he should stay or leave. Fenris groaned inwardly at this, the last thing they needed was for the child to doubt them and decide to bolt. The warrior could hear Isabela’s warnings about letting Anders wander the streets of Antiva alone… Hawke would kill him if anything of the like happened. He shifted his weight and worried his lip. The only problem now was he didn’t know how to reassure the boy that they were helping him. 

It was perhaps lucky that Sebastian changed his mind and companied them to Antiva, the priest was far better than Fenris in terms of childcare. Sebastian knelt in front of Anders, placing a reassuring hand on the child’s shoulder, “What bothering you, lad?” 

Fenris strained to hear Anders’ reply, but the words were spoken far too softly for him to hear, even Sebastian had some difficult hearing it. “I swear to you as a brother Hawke is doing all she can to help you.” Sebastian said confidently. That seemed to help Anders relax, his grip on his toy loosened and he nodded at the priest. 

It was a disconnect to see Anders trusting Sebastian more than Hawke, simply because the man was a vested brother of the Chantry, the same Chantry that the older Anders spoke so vehemently about. 

Fenris shook his head, at least now he wouldn’t have to worry about Anders running off on his own. He turned his attention to the two women – plus dwarf – conversing on Anders’ condition. He spared Sebastian and Anders a brief glance, once he was certain the archer wasn’t going to leave Anders alone, he moved closer to them. 

“It’ll take me awhile to figure out how exactly this happened.” June mused, unbothered by her pet serpent crawling up into her hair, “The potion was never meant for drunk. Most if its ingredients are poisonous. Is there anything else? I doubt being a mage is what saved your friend from ending up like every other fool who ignored my warnings.”   
  


“Well he is grey warden and… somewhat possessed.” Hawke hesitantly said. 

Fenris knitted his brows, he hadn’t thought Hawke would just volunteer that sort of information to a stranger. But he trusted Hawke knew what she was doing in telling the woman about Anders condition. 

“An abomination? Then I am surprise you’re not all dead yet.” Curiosity lined June’s voice, she sparing Anders a brief look, “Certainly doesn’t look like one either.” 

That was a predictable reaction from a mage, which did not comfort Fenris. He grew restless as June made a few inquiries, less on curing Anders and more on feeding the brunette’s curiosity about Anders’ peculiar condition. 

She made a couple of theories that it was possible that the taint kept Anders from dying when he ingested the potion and Justice – being a creature of the Fade, part of the very source of magic – was cause him to turn into a child. 

“Wait. Is it possible that this poison of yours ate away at the taint in his blood instead?” Hawke sounded hopeful and Fenris couldn’t blame her, not after meeting Larius. She had been devastated to learn what the Calling was. 

June gave her a thoughtfully look and shook her head, “I don’t know. I am still not quite sure how this grey warden taint works. And the poison itself is a bit more…” the brunette explained to the best of her ability that the contents of the potion could not be properly digested by the stomach, and eventually the poison would get into the blood killing whoever was stupid enough to drink it. 

Not that it was much of an explanation. The mage lacked subjects to properly observe the effects of her potion. She also explain that it was not possible to reverse the process, but she could make a potion to age Anders, as for Anders’ memories that she had cited would need to reread a few Tevinter books she had hidden away. 

Isabela and Merrill returned soon after that, and interrupted the three. 

“I am going to head on back to the docks and inform the Captain that we’re not dead.” Isabela joked. 

Varric stood up and strolled to over to the pirate, “I’ll be going back too. Oh, don’t give me that look, Hawke. You didn’t think I was here on vacation did you? No, I am here on guild business.” 

Sebastian followed the two other rogues back to the ship, promising to return in the morning. 

With the priest gone, Anders returned to Fenris’ side. The elven warrior felt himself pleased that Anders was once again at ease with him. 

June couldn’t offer them a room to stay in but welcomed them to sleep in her home for the evening. They moved a few pieces of furniture to make room for their bedrolls and June retreated to small side room which was partition off with a curtain, her bedroom no doubt. 

\-- 

The following morning June was already up and working on the first potion, Merrill was eager to earn the other mage’s trust and offered to help. But the other mage refused to let the elven mage to any of them into her apothecary. Fenris was tempted to follow her into the tunnels to and see just what she ingredients she used. But Hawke stopped him and convinced June to let Merrill help. June returned from this hidden room and gave Merrill some herbs to cut and clean. 

Fenris doubted doing a few menial tasks would win June over. 

By the afternoon, Sebastian returned alone and potion was ready. 

“Guesses are useless to me. I can’t believe none of you bothered to ask him how old he was.” June rubbed her forehead, “Nevermind, one part is easily solved. The other will sort itself out. Maybe.” She muttered loud enough for Fenris to hear. She strode towards him and his charge, “How old are you child?” 

The small hand tighten its hold on his briefly, “Twelve.” Anders answered. 

“Alright, Anders I need you to drink this.” June held out a vial of contain a strange glowing purple liquid. The child merely stared at it, he inched closer to Fenris when the woman tried to take his hand. She scoffed and handed the vial to Hawke, “You make him take it.” with another huff she stalked out into the tunnels. 

Hawke stood holding the vial, unsure how to go about getting Anders to drink its odd contents. She cleared her throat and knelt down to Anders’ level, “It’s alright, Anders. Will get you home but first we need you to drink this.” She held out the vial. 

Anders looked up at him and Fenris shifted uncomfortable with this trust Anders had forced upon him. He sighed and nudged the boy to take the vial. 

And just like that Anders took it from Hawke’s hands and quickly swallowed the liquid, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he coughed. The results weren’t immediate but Anders started showing the same symptoms as he had the night before he changed. Lethargy followed by falling dead asleep, at least those were the ones Fenris knew off. The elf hadn’t been paying the mage much attention, being too preoccupied in killing their enemies that night. 

If the potion works, Anders would awake an adult. And everything will go back to the way it was. He paused at that thought, he shook his head and pushed the thought aside, it was better for all of them if everything went back to the way it was. For one thing it would be less confusing. 

Regardless with his charge sleeping Fenris was free to do whatever until the boy woke up. He glanced at the two curtained off rooms, one lead to the kitchen where Merrill working and the other led to June’s bedroom, both rooms were small and sparse of furniture as they were could barely fit four people, only the study seemed to be the exception. 

But he found himself hesitant to leave Anders alone, child or not when he awoke. Sebastian and Hawke were gone, it was most so Hawke would know the way out and not lead them around in circles for hours like she did in the Deep Roads and almost every cave they’ve been in. 

In the end the elf fell back on his own bedroll, turning so he faced his charge, Anders was curled up and hugging that doll, sleeping peacefully. The boy didn’t seem to have the same problem with nightmares as Anders did when they camped in caves or underground, the mage was always tossing and turning mumbling something under his breath. Fenris had found it irritating fearing that noise would attract less desired attention. But the elf had always left the mage to his night terrors, simply stating that it wasn’t any of his business. 

Catching this train of thought he growled and turned away from the child, deciding that sleeping was better than waiting for Anders to wake up. 

\-- 

“Is path really that easy?” a heavy sigh escaping June as she watch Sebastian and Hawke exit the caverns. 

“We’ve been walking around in circles for an hour.” Hawke whined plopping down to sit on the ground, uncaring of the dirt. 

“Which is why Isabela made more permanent means of finding the way out, we just got turned around a bit.” Immediately Sebastian raised his hand, “Don’t worry though I doubt anyone will notice the markings she left unless they knew where to look.” 

The mage scoffed, she slung a pack on her back and hiked into the woods. 

“Go on, I am not going anywhere. I know you have a few question of your own for her.” Hawke waved him off; Sebastian nodded and quickly chased after June. 

He made no secret that he was following her. Maker knows he didn’t want to end up in the receiving end of a fireball. “Is it wise to wander alone in the woods?” 

“I am not going that far and animals scare easy. Just throw some fire at their feet and they’ll bolt. People on the other hand…” June eyed him warily, “What is it you want? I am not skipping town, if that is what you’re afraid off. I am just going to get a few ingredients.” 

“That is not why I am here. I just wanted to ask you something.” 

June stopped and turned to face him, “If it’s about the potion, I’ll save you the trouble and just tell you I won’t be telling you anything about that.” 

He shook his head, denying the accusation, “I am not interested in that. Are you from Starkhaven?” She quirked her eye at him, “Your accent…” He trailed off, feeling just a bit foolish. 

“Yes, I am. I was born and raised in Starkhaven.” She confirmed, looking at him oddly, “Why ask? I know you are as well. But I don’t ask.” 

“I was merely curious that’s all.” She was definitely a suspicious one. He had hoped to simply know more about the mage and gauge if she was going to be a danger. And if she was… well there are worst things than reliving your childhood. “Is it considered a bad thing to want to know a countryman?” 

Her eyes narrowed and he felt a bit worried she would attack him. But she sighed and shook her head, “No, no it’s not.” She turned around, continued on her way, “I am just not used to people asking about me. Then again, the only people I’ve talk to on a nearly daily basis are Anita and Mal.” 

Sebastian walked beside her, glad she wasn’t hostile to him anymore or at least not openly hostile, “Have you ever spoken to them? Perhaps tried to start a conversation with them?” 

“I have, before I dealt with them. I wanted to know who I was getting into business with. To make sure they wouldn’t betray me for the right price. I never asked anything too personal, just if’s and if they had plans to get out of the squalor they lived in.” She hummed thoughtfully, “Once I was sure they wouldn’t, I offer them the deal. Then our conversations were about business.” 

“Mal never mentioned meeting you before making the deal with you.” 

“I’d be a very poor apostate if I was recognizable, much less memorable. Besides they were far too busy lamenting on their lot in life.” She shrugged, unconcerned of the impact she made on the elves lives or at least that was what he thought, “The great change was not their rise from poverty, but the deterioration of their once valued friendship.” She continued. It was hard to detect but her voice gained a bitter edge with each word she spoke. 

“Mal said as much. What happened between them, if you don’t mind telling me?” 

“Money. Not a unique story. Power eventually corrupts those who are weak to temptation.” June paused to look over her shoulder, at him, her gaze unconcerned, “Unless you’re willfully blind to it or an idiot. If you are neither then you’ve seen it too, it is everywhere after all.” He gave her a questioning look. 

She rolled her eyes and focused on the way. Just when Sebastian thought their conversation was over, she continued, “Power comes in many forms; physical, financial, magical, political, and information. The strongest will use his power to take from the weak, their possession and perhaps their lives as well.” 

“I suppose, but magic can cause enough devastation to match a storm and blood magic can take control of man-. That is hardly a fair comparison.” Sebastian argued. This was almost like talking to Anders, without the heated words and angry looks. June was a lot calmer than Anders was with his passionate argument. With June it was like discussing something trivial. 

“I traveled here on my own from Starkhaven, along the way I came across a merchant and his caravan. His guards stood no chance against the thieves that swarmed them.” 

He frowned, “Wait!” And when didn’t heed him, he grabbed her arm stopping her, “You didn’t help them?” 

She quirked her brow, “And what would you have me do?” 

“You could have done something; you are a mage aren’t you?” He had seen Anders and Merrill take down dozens of raiders on the coast, surely she could have done something. 

That elicited a bit of a laugh from her, “You’ve seen me cast one spell and assume from that I am what? A powerful mage?” She shook her head, “I have vast well of mana to draw from, but my magic itself, is subpar. The spell I used on your friend, I wasn’t thinking, so it’s safe to say I wasn’t holding back. And she didn’t exactly go very far now did she? No real injury either.” 

“No.” Isabela had only complained about her backside aching, on the way back to Antiva. But he wasn’t really sure if she had been serious since she also asked him to massage her bottom. “I guess she really wasn’t hurt. But still…” He released his grip on her. 

“Not every mage you meet will be capable of throwing a fireball.” She said as she brushed off some imagery dirt off her arm, “Had the tables been turned I am sure the merchant would have done the same. Even more so if he learned I was a mage, perhaps even used that to his advantage.” 

“That is rather cynical of you.” 

“ _Being_ cynical has kept me alive and out of the Circle.” She huffed and turned her back on for the second time. 

When Anders was himself again, Sebastian could see her joining Anders in his crusade against the Chantry. “Would it be so bad? Living in the Circle, you wouldn’t need to hide anymore. And you would be with other mages.” 

“So being a mage means I’ll instantly feel a kinship with them? Ha. I guess you’re even more a fool than I thought you were. Enough mages have passed through this forest heading to and from Tevinter or Rivain. There is no more kinship between me and them as there is between you and every other human.” 

“The Circle would have provided for you.” He argued as they finally reached a small clearing that was crowded with various kinds of flora, some he recognized and some he didn’t. 

June set to work picking them and storing them in her pack, “I’ve had my fill of people telling me what to do with my life. I had enough of that from my family when I still had one.” 

“That’s not true. The Chantry –“ He started. 

“The Chantry does their deeds out of fear of the Maker and the void. Not because they actually care.” She interjected, scoffing. 

The archer sighed, deciding to change their topic back to the mage. He had enough arguments about the Chantry with Anders as it was, “How old were you, when your magic awakened?” 

“Eighteen.” She answered curtly. 

“That’s rather old…” Sebastian’s brows knitted in thought, “And your parents help you escape the Templars.” 

“I am not really certain. I think my magic came to me much earlier than that. It was just so weak that no one, not even I noticed it. But I am certain that my parents gave me a chance to leave to protect their title.” She said with an air of nonchalance, “I am sure you know how having a mage child can ruin and noble family. Unwanted children can be such a bother; they have such a habit of ruining family names and what not.” 

An uncomfortable – for him anyway – silence fell between them. 

He fidgeted as she carried on picking a variety of plants, paying no heed to him. He didn’t know how she lived with a cloud of suspicion over her. He tilted his head as he spied something moving on her ear. He stepped closer and realized it was her snake, crawling up her ear to nest in her hair its tail waving its tail to the strap of leather that tied her hair. “You brought your snake with you?” He said disbelievingly. 

She spared him exasperatedly look, “Yes. I wasn’t about to leave Kismet with people I didn’t trust, I do not want to return to find Kismet dead.” 

“Hawke wouldn’t have allowed it. Where were you even keeping him?” Quizzical inspecting her pack, it didn’t seem likely that the serpent had been there, and he doubt it was in her trouser pockets. 

“Nestled in my brassiere, apparently it is warm there, therefore a good place to sleep.” Sebastian coughed. June carried on frowning, “It can get inconvenient when he decides to wake up while I am working, and then sometimes he excretes on me. It is rather terrible of him.” 

He nodded dumbly at her, “You’ve had him for how long.” 

“I bought him from a merchant, a breeder on the docks of Antiva some two years ago. Snakes are considered a delicacy, and their blood an aphrodisiac in some places.” She rolled her eyes, mumbling about how gullible certain people were to believe such a thing. 

The snake in question flicked its tongue at his direction, “Out of all the pets why a snake?” He eyed Kismet. 

“He eats the mice that I catch in my apothecary. And my mother kept snakes for their venom. So I know how to care of a snake, unlike a cat or a dog wherein I have no clue.” She carefully stood up mindful of Kismet, she picked up her pack. “And…” she sighed heavily, “Nevermind, Let’s go I am done here.” 

Sebastian followed behind her, Kismet watched him from the top of June’s head. 

\-- 

Anders awoke late in the afternoon, he quietly ate the bread Fenris had handed him. It was strange aside from a quiet thanks, did not speak to him beyond what was needed. 

He did not seem older, asking him only confirmed Fenris’ suspicions. He was still twelve, but something had changed. Anders would not meet Fenris’ eye and distancing himself from the elf. It puzzled Fenris, but he gave the boy his space without letting him out of his sight. Simply passing whatever problem the mage was having as a human thing. 

At least until Anders sought Merrill company on his own initiative, it had always been Merrill who came to Anders and Anders always made sure that Fenris was near him when she was. Now he had attempted to slip away from the warrior to seek out the blood mage. Asking Merrill proved useless as she refused to tell him anything of what was going on with the young Anders. 

He wouldn’t deny he was relieved to see Hawke when she had returned. June dropped her pack on the desk and went to inspect Anders. 

“Interesting. I think I diluted the potion too much.” June mused, untangling the snake from her hair. 

Hawke quirked her brow, “Diluted?” 

“Well I could kill your friend right now if you like. While this potion isn’t as toxic as the _water_ , it still uses a number of ingredients with it and all of it is toxic.” The brunette headed to into her room depositing the small snake into a basket, as far as Fenris could see. It was obscured by the bed. She then gestured for Merrill to follow her, taking her pack into the kitchen. The sound of a knife on a cutting board and sloshing water hinted out what they were doing. 

“So I wager we won’t be return to Antiva today.” Sebastian pointed the obvious as he did on certain occasion. 

“You don’t mind being the messenger boy do you?” Hawke asked, not that she needed too. Fenris knew the archer wouldn’t turn down her request. “I have to go talk to June see how long it’ll take to make another batch of whatever that was.” 

“Of course, Hawke.” Sebastian answered as their leader entered the kitchen. The archer’s attention briefly moved to the small boy standing by the bookshelves, then returning to the elven warrior. A silent question, _Do you need help with him?_

Fenris shook his head and gestured to his friend to go, he would handle it himself. Anders was his responsibility, not the archer’s, and it would be unfair of him to saddle him with Fenris’ responsibility when he had a task of his own. 

It was after dinner when Fenris spied Anders slinked away while the others ate, he must have thought Fenris was not watching. Fenris tailed Anders from a distance; it wasn’t too difficult as the child stole a lit candle from its stand. He took note of the path Anders took, the last thing he wanted was end up lost in the tunnels. 

The boy stopped where the tunnels diverged, placed the never melting candle down on the cave floor, and it was then Fenris found out what was wrong. June’s potion did not fail. 

Lyrium brand’s tingled as Anders summon a small flame to his palm, his eyes shut in concentration. Anders was a mage, it wasn’t a surprise or it should not come as a surprise and it wasn’t but somehow managed to be a surprise. Fenris cursed himself, for peculiar feeling in his gut as he watched the flame flickered growing stronger one minute and weaker the next. He walked up to the mage, intentionally stepped on a few loose rocks to let Anders know he was there. 

Anders jumped; the flame flickered one last time and died all together in his hand. He looked guiltily at the elf, his hands behind his back, “I… I am sorry.” 

“For what? Sneaking out into the caves? You should be. Do you even know the way back to Hawke?” The boy mumbled a quiet no. Fenris grabbed Anders’ arm and picked up the candle, leading them back to Hawke, “That was foolish of you. Be glad that I followed you or you would have starved to death in these caves.” 

A broken voice stopped the elf in his tracks, “You hate me now. You’re going to throw me away like father did.” Spoken so softly that Fenris could pretend he didn’t hear it. But he couldn’t ignore it. 

Fenris held tightly on the little mage’s arm. The boy was a mage, he was Anders, the same Anders that agreed he’d be happier in Tevinter. So of course he hated him. He just couldn’t say it, his throat constricted making hard to speak and he didn’t want Hawke to disappoint Hawke. So he had to lie. 

He turned to face the dropping the candle on the cave floor, and of course it stayed lit, “I won’t throw you away. I am taking you to Hawke and she’ll fix this mess, and everything will turn out for the better.” 

Anders shook his head, tears forming in his eyes, “You’re lying.” choked sobbed drowned out the rest. He wept, clutching the hem of Fenris’ tunic. It troubled the elf to watch the tears, but he was unsure of what to do. So simply let the boy cry. 

Soon the sobs receded, the mage hiccupped and small hands still cutch at his tunic, “What happened to your family?” 

For the first time it Anders for was reluctant to talk about his family, but he conceded in the end. He told Fenris about how he tried to practice his magic at night in secret; no one went to their barn at night so it had seemed like the perfect place. 

On one of these nights however his father had seen him leaving their home and followed him in but when the older man saw the flame he screamed at him calling him a demon lost control, his father’s screams startled him and he lost control of the flame. 

They had gotten out find but his father was not pleased by the discovery. He had lock Anders away in the cellar for weeks until the Templars came. During his confinement he could hear his mother and father fighting above him, they had never fought, never yelled at each other before. They had always solved their disagreement civilly. 

His sister and brother were absent when the Templars came to take him away. His mother called out to him, only for his father to pull her back and berate her for calling Anders by the name he had given. It had hurt to hear his father disavowed him, and strip him of his name. 

\-- 

The second potion was far more potent, and kept Anders asleep for a whole day, waking at after dawn the very next morning. But the changes were far more obvious, from twelve to sixteen. The mage, Anders understood what they were doing and to an extent what had happened to him in the emporium. The young mage was more than willing to help them cure him, perhaps a little too willing as Fenris watched the teen flirt with June. 

Fenris was glad Hawke had brought Anders’ old clothes else… He shook his head. 

“How exactly do you know all this?” Hawke inquired, poking the teen’s chest. 

“For a kiss, I will be more than happy to tell you my secrets.” Anders smiled flirtatiously at their leader, to which she responded to by pinching him, “Ow! Alright. There is something in my head that tells me. He doesn’t tell me everything though, too confused as well. Having just woken up from his nap and all.” He answered pouting as he nursed his _injury_. 

That answered their question on what had happened to the spirit. June however was saddened she couldn’t speak to the spirit, still groggily from his slumber. 

The day itself had been trying with Anders had refused to stay in June’s home, all but demanding to be allowed to visit Antiva. In the end Hawke relented and convinced Fenris to take Anders there. 

It seemed the mage had an odd habit of confusing Fenris, with his many phases, a child proud and eager to please his parents, to a child who was still reeling from his abandonment, and now here was Anders the hormonal teenager as Varric fittingly called him. 

Isabela had been more than happy to return Anders’ advances, she had even gone so far as to invite the teen to her bed, Fenris could only thank the Maker when a sailor intervened on Isabela’s behalf. Fenris wondered if business with the Captain was the only reason she refused to stay with them in June’s hideaway. 

Relief quickly turned into embarrassment when others laughed as Anders flirted with him and Sebastian. Unlike Sebastian, he didn’t have the option to run away and leave the mage to his devices. At the very least the mage left him alone once he told the teen he wasn’t interested in bedding a child, Anders stalked off indignantly at that. 

Anders reaction to being called a child had briefly brought a smile to his face, but that smile disappeared as he watched – rolling his eyes mostly – Anders flirt with men and women. Stealing touches and kisses from his partners who all returned the favor. 

He drew the line however at watching Anders going into secluded places with strangers that could be assassins or whatever miscreant lived in Antiva. He grabbed the mage’s wrist, intent on dragging him back to June’s kicking and screaming if he had too. 

“You know I am sure they wouldn’t have minded letting you join in if you wanted.” Anders chuckled at the elf’s _fit_. “I would have most certainly welcomed it. And since you think I am so insolent, would have let you discipline however way you wanted.” He added playfully. 

That halted Fenris, “Is this all just a game too you?” He growled threateningly, sneering at the mage, whose playful smile vanished at the accusation. “I refused to be toyed with again.” 

“I didn’t mean. I mean- I just…” Anders stammered over his words, a hand on the nape of his neck and a flush on his cheeks. 

That pleased Fenris. It was the mage’s turn to be embarrassed by his foolish actions. 

“I remember looking up to you as a child, larger than life, godlike. I suppose…” the blond laughed nervously, “I suppose had a bit of a crush on you then.” He glancing meekly at the elf, “and now... It’s just. Everyone likes me because I am fun. I thought you might like me too... I am sorry alright. I mean to piss you off.” He voice growing progressive softer, while the flush on his cheeks darkened. 

That was not what Fenris had expected, “I-“ He cleared his throat, “It’s fine mage, Anders. I don’t need you to be _fun_. I need you to be you.” He wasn’t sure if he even got his point across, but Anders smiled so brightly at him, like the sun, and he couldn’t help but turn away from the other man. He took a deep breath to ease the odd sensation in his cheat. He released the mage’s wrist go. “We can go back to Antiva, if you like.” 

“No, it’s alright. I am too tired right now; I’ve been tired for a long time.” Anders answered and continued on to June’s or at least on what he thought was the way to June’s. 

Fenris rolled his eyes, and without thought took Anders’ hand and lead the way. 

\-- 

“Alright this is the last one I’ll give you whatever the outcome, I am not going to make another.” June announced, holding out to Anders. 

“But you said you’d help us.” Hawke argued, she had moved to stand in front of the other woman. 

“And I have done as I promised, but if I give him anymore. I might as well just slit his throat here and now. You may not see it but I know the signs, he’s had enough. Anymore will mostly likely fatal for him. It will take years before his body will be ready for another dose. And none of us can wait that long.” 

“I’ll miss your cynical sense of humor.” Anders said smiling at June as he took the vial from her. 

The woman in question rolled her eyes and folded her arms beneath her breast, “I suppose I might miss having a clown around.” 

“Well it’s been fun while it lasted.” He raised the vial and swallowed it contents. Lethargy immediately set in and Fenris help the mage to his bedroll. And the man promptly fell asleep. 

“How long will he be asleep this time?” Fenris inquired. 

June shrugged, “I cannot say, it varies depending on the mixture.” She left the three of them alone in her study, slinking away to her apothecary. The woman had been spending more time in her apothecary away from them. Since some of her things had been disappearing, it was safe to guess she was preparing to leave Antiva. 

“Ah, I can’t believe I miss Kirkwall.” Hawke sighed, “I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed again.” She stretched her arms over her head. 

Merrill sat down on her bedroll, “It would be good to see the others again.” She smiled halfheartedly. 

Hawke seated herself beside the elven mage, “I am sorry it wasn’t elven potion. But who can say it the ancient elves didn’t know how to make the potion June makes. Perhaps it really is elven and June doesn’t know it because all the text is gone.” 

“I don’t know Hawke, but really don’t think it is elven it. She didn’t say much but she kept hinting out that she uses something dangerous as core ingredient. But it’s alright Hawke at least Anders is well.” Merrill turned her head at the sleeping man, “Or he will be once he awakes up. And then the nice captain won’t be so grumpy anymore.” 

“Hey, were paying him besides it hasn’t been that long yet. I’d say this went quicker than I expected, not even a week and were done. I don’t see what he’s complaining about.” Hawke huffed, “I suppose men of the sea are impatient, especially when there is money to be made elsewhere.” 

Losing interest in Hawke and Merrill’s exchange Fenris studied Anders, it would was finally over he could stop playing bodyguard to another mage. Yet… how would things be once the mage woke up? From what it looks like Anders would remember their trip. What would that mean? Would it change anything or would they just go back? Would it be easy going back to their less complicated relationship, where they spat insults at each other? 

Fenris settled in to sleep as well not really in the mood for questions. 

He awoke late in the evening and Anders woke an hour earlier than him, the mage was older, much older. He almost looked like his old self – give or take a few months, Fenris was never good at guessing human ages – he even had Justice, who was just as aware as his host, it was Justice that gave Anders the memories of what had happened since he left the warden. 

But it seemed that Anders had lost all his newer memories. He recalled nothing beyond falling asleep in the Hanged Man in Varric’s suite. 

Fenris didn’t want to leave until they had found a way to restore all the mage’s memories. June simply told him that only time could help Anders, and if he never remembers than there was nothing she could do. For the realm of memories was beyond her. 

He should be happy at least now he had the answers to his questions. And it was the one he had wanted… right. 

\-- 

Fenris had spent the journey back to Kirkwall avoiding the mage, the task hadn’t been difficult since the feeling was mutual. Anders believed Fenris would push him overboard, if given the chance. 

“So were heading home and suddenly you’ve become a recluse.” 

Fenris turned away from the railings to see Hawke, “I see you’re not with the mage.” 

“Hum? He’s with Varric, complaining a lot.” She chuckled and tilted her head, “So you must be glad that it’s over and we kept our word we are taking Anders home.” 

“Not the home he had hoped for.” Fenris muttered, he sighed, “I am fine, Hawke.” 

“Well there nothing we can do about that. That happened years ago.” Hawke said somberly. “What will you do now?” 

“I don’t know.” He turned back to watch the setting sun, the clouds took on a hue that reminded him of blond hair tinted with red. 

“You really should talk to him you might trigger a memory or something” She suggested and took her leave of the elf. 

Fenris never had a chance to speak to Anders in private he was always with Varric or Hawke, or just avoiding Fenris altogether. But Hawke had told him, she would tell him if Anders remembered anything. Not that the elf cared if Anders ever remembered. 

Soon Kirkwall came into view and he wondered why he didn’t feel the relief. 

He craned his head, to see the mage stretching his limbs. Happy to be off the ship from the looks of it, their eyes met and the mage stood straighter, without another word Anders left for his clinic. Fenris swallowed and walked off to his mansion. 

This place was familiar, nothing there to cause him frustration, or fill his mind with confusing thoughts. 

That was good, right? 

Unpacking his things, he found something that didn’t quite belong to him among his possessions. 

\-- 

Fenris fought with himself for days on this. The thought of why and how it had gotten in his pack. It had seeded a bit of hope that maybe it might remind Anders, of what had happened at the very least give him some peace of mind and put the notion to rest. 

The lantern was unlit and the doors still locked, when he had arrived. He knocked on the woodened door, and after a few minutes the door swung open and there stood Anders. The mage regarded the elf coldly at first until amber eyes caught sight of the patchwork doll in Fenris’ hand. The mage moved aside and let the elf in and closed the door behind the warrior. 

“I found this in my pack.” Fenris said as he handed the stuffed cat to the mage. He fidgeted under the mage’s stare, he lowered his gaze to hide the embarrassed flush that was no doubted colored his cheeks. 

Anders looked away and coughed, “I did not think.” Fenris frowned and looked back up, “I remember.” The mage gently took the toy from his hand, “I had hid it in your pack, because I believed you would send me away. But I had hoped that you would at least visit me, if I hid it in your pack.” 

“I said I would not send you away.” 

“Yes, you did but my father sent me away. If someone who once told me he loved then, what of a stranger who had openly said he hate mage…” Anders trailed off. 

Fenris placed a hand on Anders’, “I don’t make a habit of breaking my word?” 

“I can see that now.” Anders smiled at him, briefly, “I am sorry about what I said when I woke up. My head hurt and my memories were a mess. But they have had time to settle now and I remember everything.” 

“Including the time you propositioned me as a teen?” Fenris said dryly. 

Anders cleared his throat and Fenris was more than pleased to see a ting of red on the mage’s cheeks, “Yes.” 

“Are you still interested?” He asked curtly. 

Anders blinked, “I thought you said you weren’t interested.” 

“I said ‘I wasn’t in a child.’ I was interested, but I refused to do anything until you were cured.” He confessed and it was his turn to look away. This was something he wanted, if Anders could ask for something he wanted then Fenris could as well, “I do not know how exactly to proceed with this but I am willing to give it a try.” He looked back at the mage, “Are you?” 

Anders set Ser Patchedpaws down on a cot and closed the distance between them, “Yes.” He cupped the elf chin and leaned down to press his lips against the other’s, he however made no attempt to do anything more than that. He did not want to force Fenris. Anders did not want to scare him off, Fenris may have been a warrior capable of lifting a sword that was as big as he was tall, but the elf was delicate in his own way. 

Fenris stood still unsure if he should or should not. It was not his inexperience that froze him. He had enough experience when it came to the physical aspect thanks to Isabela, the emotional aspect however. He felt the pressure on his lip ease and he knew Anders was going to pull away. So he did the only thing he could think off, he tangle his hand in the blond’s hair keeping the other man from moving and tentatively licked Anders’ lip. 

Anders’ lips parted and allowed the elf’s tongue to explore his mouth at his leisure, Anders made no move to control the situation, more than alright with letting the elf lead. When Fenris pulled away, he licked his lips, “We’ll go at your pace.” 

Fenris smiled at him, “Thank you.” He cleared his throat, “I think I still have some wine stashed away. Would you like to have a drink with me?” 

“Sure.” Anders smiled. 

A not so small hand took hold of his and it felt right. 


End file.
